Poor Little Rich Boy
by scc86to
Summary: When his father leaves on his honeymoon, Edward takes off on a road trip with his new stepsister. They meet new people along the way, and sparks fly. Will he be able to overcome his past, and fall in love? AU/AH/OOC Rated M! Better description inside.
1. Wedding

**Description:** Edward Cullen is the only son of Washington's most celebrated criminal lawyer (Carlisle). His mother passed away when he was 12, and he hasn't been the same since. When Carlisle remarries, Edward is torn between hating his new stepmother, and wanting to sleep with her daughter, his new stepsister, Rosalie. While their parents are on their Honeymoon, they decide to take a road trip for kicks, and meet some interesting people along the way. Do they really care about each other? Or will they find that while lust is strong, love is stronger? Can Edward overcome his painful past - and habit-ridden present - and discover what he's needed all along? Can Rosalie overcome her insecurities and allow herself to be happy? AU/AH/OOC Rated M for a reason! Lemons, lemons lemons! Drug use, and language.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the wonderful Stephenie Meyer does! I'm just having my fun with them =)

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**Chapter 1: Wedding**

**Edward's POV**

I stood behind my father at the altar, as we waited for his soon-to-be wife to make her way down the aisle. The large church was packed to the brim with guests; some were forced to stand along the back wall behind the last row of seats. Photographers were scattered throughout the room, each vying for the best angles of the ceremony. Everyone was dressed exquisitely, which wasn't surprising. My father was the highest paid criminal lawyer in Washington, and that, combined with the substantial inheritance from my grandfather, made him one of the richest men in the state. Celebrities, politicians, fucking _royalty_ even, were scattered throughout the crowd, but I barely noticed. I only had eyes for Rosalie.

Lauren Stanley, the bride-to-be, had only one redeeming quality; her daughter. Rosalie Stanley was the hottest chick I had ever laid eyes on. The fact that she'd be my step-sister in a matter of minutes was the icing on the cake. My blood didn't flow through her veins, therefore – in my mind at least – she was fair game. And the way her ass looked in that dress... I had to shift my lower half away from the crowd to hide the growing bulge in my pants. She elicited that reaction from me almost daily, and she used it to her advantage as much as possible.

As she made her way up the aisle, her eyes locked with mine, and she gave me a smile I'd seen a million times before. The "I'm eye-fucking you, are you eye-fucking me?" smile. I answered with my own lopsided grin, and subtly gestured below my waist to all the proof she'd ever need. She winked as she made her way to the bride's side, and took her place opposite me. Her dress, a pink strapless number, showcased her tits so perfectly it was all I could do not to rip it off her body and take her right then and there. No, I had to be a perfect gentleman today. My father had assured me he'd make it worth my while if I behaved.

My father's "gifts," or bribes as I knew them to be, were definitely an incentive to play nice. Last time I'd been asked to behave, for some charity function at the Chateau Bijou downtown, I'd gotten an all expenses paid trip to Amsterdam for a month. He didn't even ask questions when I was all but barred from returning to the city, and returned home in a private jet accompanied by some ridiculous Dutch cop with an 80's haircut gone horribly, horribly wrong. No, my father pretty much took the "don't ask, don't tell" stance with me. That was probably a good thing.

The organist struck the first few chords of the bridal march, and we all turned to look towards the back of the church. Lauren emerged through the flower-laden doorway, looking every bit the trailer trash she was. I knew her well enough to be one of the very few who remained unsurprised at her appearance, but she took it further than I imagined she would. She was in a god awful white halter dress, most of which was see-through, with a slit that opened somewhere around her crotch. Some people were shocked, but most seemed offended that a woman marrying this high in society would dress like _that_. Lauren's mother, a crabby old bitch named Jessica, was blotting her heavily lined eyes with a Kleenex, and beaming like this was the second coming of Jesus Christ himself. How a woman of her age, _and_ weight, could manage to wear a full mink coat to a wedding in June, was beyond me.

Lauren, who walked herself down the aisle, came to a stop beside my father and took his hand eagerly. I could all but see the dollar signs in her eyes, and I felt the familiar twinge of guilt as I watched my father smile lovingly at her, oblivious to it all. She was a good actress, but she didn't have me fooled. To be honest, I probably would have said something to my dad before it got this far, but nailing her daughter was something I _needed_ to do.

The ceremony passed quickly; neither wanted to recite their own vows. When they were announced as husband and wife, Lauren shot her mom a victorious smile before throwing her arms around my father's neck and kissing him with all her might. Rosalie pretended to gag behind her mother's back, and I laughed silently at her display. When the bride and groom made their way down the aisle, she linked her arm with mine and I lead her out of the church to the limo that awaited us. I had arranged for us to be alone in the car, hell, I was hoping for a little action before the reception. What can I say? I'm all for quick results.

"So _brother_," Rosalie purred, sliding closer to me on the seat. "Tell me what you think about your new sister."

"My new _sister_," I replied, sliding my fingers down her arm, "looks really uncomfortable in her dress. Maybe she should take it off for a while..." I trailed off, half gaging her reaction to my words, half hoping she'd finally give in and sleep with me.

"Oh Edward," she sighed, moving her hand from my knee to cover the bulge in my pants. It twitched under her hand and she grabbed it tightly, her eyes dark and full of the lust and want I'd been showing her for months. I groaned loudly at her touch, and she smiled triumphantly. "It wouldn't be right, not on our parents' wedding day! Maybe another time, though."

She squeezed my cock once more before she slid her hand away, and started rummaging through her purse. It was hard, but I managed to erase the look of shock from my face before she looked at me again, smiling sweetly. Sure, she was a huge prick tease, but I had to keep my head on straight if I was ever going to seal the deal.

"You're too much, Rose." I flashed her a quick grin, then filled my head with thoughts of her grandmother. Nothing could work better than that, to erase my little – uh – problem down there.

I spent the last part of the ride watching Rose fuss over her appearance. She was vain, and rightfully so, but seeing it always managed to spark a little annoyance in me. Besides, the girl looked amazing first thing in the morning. The rumpled hair, skimpy shirt just a bit off center, shorts riding low on her hips... _Okay Edward, just stop. Jessica, Jessica, Jessica... Ugh, much better. _

We pulled up to the banquet hall at last, and I followed Rose out of the limo. I had to practice my own personal mantra again (_Jessica, Jessica, Jessica_) before I felt comfortable enough to go inside. Rosalie would surely be the death of me. A few guests mingled in the hallways with tall glasses of champagne hanging from their fingers. I said a quick hello to each of them, not knowing anyone well enough to linger longer than needed.

The reception room – which was surprisingly tastefully decorated – was filled with the chatter of the hundreds of guests who arrived before us. My father and Lauren, who sat side by side at the head table, were deep in conversation. She'd changed into a more appropriate white pantsuit, but it was still low-cut enough to flaunt her ridiculous fake breasts. The woman could make Pamela Anderson blush, for fuck's sake. I would never, ever understand what my father saw in her.

Eventually, I found Rosalie talking closely with a guy I recognized from a movie I saw last week, and after a quick hello, managed to pull her to the head table with me to take our seats. The food was served minutes later, and I was thankful for the distraction. Having to sit with my stepmother on one side, and her dreadful mother on the other, made my dick pull itself further into my body than I was comfortable with. The meal passed all too quickly, and after the second round of drinks were served, the speeches began.

This was what I hated most about weddings; the speeches. Half drunk idiots, using their liquid courage to pour out words of encouragement, and happiness for the couple, wound up sounding inappropriate and crude. I had to plaster a fake smile on my face to avoid cringing when one such guest used their opportunity to talk at length about her hopes for the "happy couple's" sex life. Once the laughter died down, Jessica stood beside me, and I half turned in her direction, wishing I could hide under the table like I had when I was younger. Her speech didn't last long, and after some sickeningly sweet words, she sat down again to a polite round of applause. I drank down the last of my champagne, and frantically searched through my breast pockets for my cue cards when I realised in horror that I'd left them on my desk this morning. Oh well, I'd just have to wing it.

I stood, and clinked my knife against my empty glass gently as everyone returned their attention to the front of the room, and to me. I cleared my throat, and glanced over at my father, his eyes silently pleading with me to be nice. _This gift better be fucking amazing_, I thought to myself before rising to my feet.

"Good evening, everyone." I paused to smile at our guests, who stared unwaveringly back at me. It was times like these I was glad to be free of stage fright. "Weddings are such wonderful occasions, and nothing is more wonderful than seeing my family complete, again." The words were met with an "aww" from most of the female guests, and I saw my father relax noticeably out of the corner of my eye. "When my father met Lauren, I was ecstatic!" _Mostly because her daughter was so damn bangable_. "Things progressed rather quickly, and I found comfort in knowing he would be happy again." My father tensed again, but for a different reason this time.

My mother – and his late wife – Elizabeth, passed away when I was 12. She had suffered from breast cancer for years, and finally succumbed. For a long time, I wasn't sure either of us would be able to move past losing her. She was the glue that held us together for so long, and when she died, it felt like a lot of things had come undone. My father started drinking, heavily, and I lost the gentle, sweet demeanor my mother praised me for when she was alive. I've often thought that when I lost her, I lost my humanity, too. Neither of us were the same afterwards, and it was only now, six years later, that he seemed to be coming back into himself.

I finished my speech quickly, adding a bit more humor to help my father forget the subtle reference to my mother, and sat down to a loud round of applause. Lauren looked pleased with me, and I grudgingly allowed her a quick hug before I turned back to drown my sorrows in more champagne. The words from my speech seemed to ring false in Jessica's ears (who would have known her to be so perceptive?), and she alternated between glaring at me, and fiddling with her napkin uncomfortably. I couldn't care less; that old bitch could blow me.

The evening seemed to go on forever, and I was dying to leave. This wedding was anything but a happy occasion for me. I finally noticed people start to say their goodbyes around 12, and I got up to leave with the rest of them.

"Not so fast, son." My dad stood up, and motioned for Lauren to stay where she was when she got up to come with us. "I'll be right back."

We walked in silence for a while, but made small talk with several guests on the way out. When we were finally alone, my father turned to me and placed a small box in my hand.

"Edward, I know this isn't easy for you. It's not easy for me either, but I've been alone for so long..." He trailed off, looking guilty despite the happiness I could feel eminating from him. "I just wanted to say thank you. You kept your word, and in return, I have kept mine."

I looked down at the box in my hand. It wasn't very big, and it looked like something more suitable for jewelery, than a gift for your son. I untied the ribbon, and slowly lifted lid, feeling more than a little apprehensive. There were a set of keys inside, and I tried to hide my confusion, but I never did get much past my father.

"Over there." He pointed to a cherry red Jaguar Boxster, parked away from the rest of the cars in the lot. I had to resist the urge to squeal like a girl, and settled on hugging and thanking him profusely. He seemed a little embarrassed, and left to go back inside after a few more minutes of my grovelling. I practically danced over to the car, and nearly fell on my knees in worship. My father and I spent hours going over car magazines in our spare time, and the only one we had ever agreed on was the one sitting in front of me now. The door opened with a satisfying click, and – I swear to God – I purred. This baby would land me _so_ much ass.

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Gossip Girl, anyone? I'm kinda thinking a Sebastian/Chuck Bass (is there really much of a difference?) mix for Edward would be fun. What do you think?


	2. Road Trip

Disclaimer: Once again, the characters do not belong to me! They belong to Stephenie Meyer, and I'm just doing horrible things to them !

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**Chapter 2: Road Trip**

"Rose! What the fuck is taking you so long? It's a _road trip_, not a damn leisure cruise!"

We had decided, once our parents left for their 2 month long honeymoon, to take a little trip of our own. Sure, we could have spent our summer cooped up in the mansion, but where was the fun in that? Rosalie had finally agreed to it, but only after _I_ agreed to spend our nights in whatever 5 star hotel we found on the way.

"Jesus, Edward. You'd think you could afford a little more patience. When I take that long to get ready, I come out looking like _this_." She did look amazing, I'd admit that. She had on a skin-tight pair of faded low-rise jeans, and a black tube top that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The girl had perfect tits, and I was thankful she didn't feel the need to hide them under unnecessary layers of fabric. Her hair was up, something she'd regret once we were on our way. I knew she'd bitch, but there's no way I was taking my baby on her maiden voyage with the top up. No fuckin' way.

"Believe me," I assured her, taking my time to drag my eyes slowly over her body. "I'm _so_ glad you came out looking like that." I used my index finger to trace a line over the swell of her breasts, and I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face when her breathing hitched at the contact. Two could play at this game.

"Okay, well, let's get going. I'll grab your bags, and meet you in the car." She smiled knowingly at me, and sashayed her way out through the back door. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: that girl _will_ be the death of me. I wasn't surprised to see she'd packed three suitcases, three _big_ suitcases at that. If I asked her, she'd probably come up with a logical use for everything in them, so I didn't bother.

We were on the road in no time, and the skyscrapers slowly gave way to the suburbs, then the sprawling countryside. I wasn't sure exactly where we were going, but that was the point. We were going wherever the road took us, and if Rose had her way, the road would take us to luxury each night. It defeated the point, but if it got me laid, I was _all_ for that plan.

"Where's the damn CD player in this thing?" Rose asked, visibly annoyed.

"Rose, this car was made before CD's were a thought in the back of anyone's mind. You're gonna have to settle for the radio." She huffed indignantly at my response, and I laughed at her. She was hot when she was pissed off. She flicked through the stations quickly, contorting her face each time she landed on one that had the audacity to play a song she hated.

"Ooh! I _love_ this song!" She did a little dance, and turned the volume up as loud as it would go. I recognized the familiar sound of the Nine Inch Nails song, and couldn't help but roll my eyes at the irony. The song described her almost perfectly.

_My God sits in the back of the limousine  
My God comes in a wrapper of cellophane  
My God pouts on the cover of the magazine  
My God's a shallow little bitch trying to make the scene _

She sang along with the song, managing to sway her hips seductively even in her seated position. My throat constricted and my pants got a lot tighter watching her, and that didn't escape her notice.

_I have arrived and this time you should believe the hype  
I listened to everyone now I know that everyone was right  
I'll be there for you as long as it works for me  
I play a game  
It's called insincerity _

_Starfuckers  
Starfuckers  
Starfuckers, inc.  
Starfuckers _

I felt her hand slide up my leg, and I afforded myself a small glance in her direction before I turned my head back to the road. She was unabashedly staring at my crotch, eyes glazed over with lust. I felt her hand reach its target, achingly slow, and she repeated her actions from that night in the limo. This time, she didn't slide her hand away. Instead, she made her way to my belt and had it undone and off me in record time.

_I am every fucking thing and just a little more  
I sold my soul but dont you dare call me a whore  
And when I suck you off not a drop will go to waste  
It's really not so bad you know once you get past the taste, yeah _

She pulled me out of my pants, and I moaned at the first skin-to-skin contact I'd had with her yet. She barely paused to lick her lips, before her warm mouth enveloped my hard length. She slid me in and out of her mouth quickly, using her hand to stimulate what her lips couldn't reach. I laid my head back on the seat, and tried to concentrate on the amazing blowjob she was giving me, as well as not getting us killed. Several cars drove past, but I didn't give two shits what they saw, and judging from her actions, she didn't either.

_All our pain  
How did we ever get by without you?  
You're so vain  
I bet you think this song is about you  
Don't you?  
Don't you?  
Don't you?  
Don't you?_

"Fuck, Rose. That feels so damn good." I felt myself coming closer and closer to my release, and she wasn't letting up. Her mouth was so hot and wet, I imagined being inside her, making her scream _my_ name. I kept one hand on the wheel, and moved one to the top of her head, forcing her into a rhythm that suited my needs better than hers.

_Now I belong I'm one of the chosen ones  
Now I belong I'm one of the beautiful ones_

I came so violently, I nearly steered the car off the road. Her mouth didn't move from me once, and just like the song promised, not a drop went to waste. When I stilled again, she removed her mouth from me with a pop, and sat back up.

"You fucked up my hair," she whined, pulling down the mirror to put it all back into place. I couldn't respond, I was still flying the post-orgasm high.

This trip was obviously the best idea I had _ever_ had.


	3. Wits and Waffles

Disclaimer: Not my characters! Stephenie Meyer owns 'em!

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**Chapter 3: Wits and Waffles**

The next morning, after an exhausting search for a hotel that met_ her_ expectations, we pulled up to a kitschy-looking diner she said looked "cute." Whatever, if they made food, I was game. She lead me to the back, and we sat in a cozy booth closest to the bathrooms. A heavyset waitress stopped by our table almost immediately, hurriedly introducing herself as Alma, and threw two frayed menus at us.

"Oh! Look, Eddie. They have Belgian Waffles!" Rose emerged from behind the menu with a breathtaking smile stretched across her face. I wanted to slap it right off of her.

"Rose, I've told you a thousand times, _do not call me _'_Eddie._'

"Sorry, Mr. Sensitive. Don't get your panties in a bunch." She looked a little offended, but I didn't care. 'Eddie,' was my mom's favorite nickname for me, and hearing it spoken aloud by someone else made me feel dead inside. I didn't have it in me to explain that to Rosalie, and I definitely didn't want to come off as some sort of weak, emotional loser in her eyes. That would be a major setback.

Alma reappeared a few minutes later, and I ordered the Belgian Waffles for Rose, and a Western Omelette for myself. We made small talk while we waited for the food to arrive, and kept to ourselves while we were eating. A bell on the front door jingled behind me, followed by the booming voices of two males. I noticed Rosalie staring intently over my shoulder, and I turned in my seat to see what the fuss was all about. A tall guy with short curly hair, and enough muscle for two people, was leading a group of three others to the booth behind us. The other guy, who was slightly shorter but muscled like his friend, had longer hair that waved to his shoulders. The two females in the group, both brunettes, followed behind them, whispering to each other. The taller of the two, a skinny chick with glasses and a body like a pre-pubescent boy, sat beside the wavy haired guy. The other, shorter and curvier – with a rack to _die_ for – sat beside the curly-haired beast.

When I turned back to Rosalie, she was still staring at the group, but now a light blush colored her cheeks. I felt a twinge of jealousy in the pit of my stomach, but brushed it off. What did it really matter? It's not like we were going to see these people ever again. I finished the rest of my breakfast, and waited patiently while she picked at hers. When Alma returned to take our empty plates, I suggested she hurry back with the bill. She smiled at me impatiently, but returned a minute later to fish it out of the front of her apron. She set it in front of me with a couple of mints, and her hopes that we'd enjoyed our food. I left her a fifty, probably making her whole damn week in the process, and we were on our way.

As we passed the booth behind us, I noticed the curly-haired guy look over Rose appreciatively, and I fought back the urge to slam his head into the window. I snaked my arm around her waist instead, and pulled her out of the diner, making sure to keep her close to my side. When we got back to the car, all hell broke loose.

"What the fuck was that about, Cullen?" She was glaring at me, and I couldn't recall ever seeing her this mad.

"What? He looked at you like you were a piece of meat, Rose. What did you want me to do?" I put on my best innocent face, but she didn't buy it for a second.

"Jealous? Really?" She rolled her eyes at me, and I felt my cheeks start to burn. "You're my _brother_, Edward. I mean sure, I'd fuck you, but it'd never go further than that."

"Rose, it's a guy thing. You wouldn't understand." I tried to communicate that fact with my eyes, but she saw right through me.

"I get it, Edward. You haven't 'staked your claim' yet," she used her fingers to wrap quotations around the last part, "and you don't want anyone getting in your way." I guess she did understand.

"That's not it at _all_," I lied, refusing to meet her eyes. "I just feel responsible for you, that's all." What a crock of shit. Responsible for _Rosalie_? That girl needed nothing and no one to take care of her.

"That's sweet," she whispered, placing her hand over mine on the steering wheel. "But I'm not a fucking idiot." She grasped my hand harder, and though I would never admit it to anyone, it _really_ hurt. "Don't forget who you're talking to, Cullen. I'm just as fucked up as you are. Your mind games don't work with me."

I had two choices here. I could admit the truth, and lose any chance I ever had at getting in her pants. Or, I could keep lying until she either believed me, or kicked my ass.

"Alright, Rosalie." I'd decided to go with the truth; a serious case of blue balls was way easier to deal with than the humiliation of having your ass handed to you by a girl that hot. "I have every intention of fucking you so hard you can't walk the next day. Happy?" I turned to face her, and she was smiling.

"Yes. And I assure you," she leaned forward to whisper in my ear, "I have every intention of letting that happen." She took my earlobe in her mouth, and bit down gently, coaxing a throaty moan from between my lips.

"G-Good," I stuttered, my calm facade betrayed by my unsteady voice. "Let's get out of here." She gestured to the ignition, and turned to pull her seat belt across her chest. I turned the key, and the engine spluttered twice, then died. I tried a few more times, then gave up completely.

"What the_ fuck_?! This car is practically brand new!" My temper flared as I stepped out of the car, and slammed the door. I didn't know much about cars, but it made me feel useful to pop the hood and pretend I did. I heard Rosalie's door open, and she joined me under the hood with a worried expression on her face.

"Do you know what's wrong with it?" She looked at me hopefully, and I'd never felt like more of an idiot than I did at this moment.

"I'm not sure..." I trailed off, and poked around the mess of wires and metal cautiously. Something I touched burned my finger, and I pulled my hand back in pain. "Shit!"

"Hey! Could you guys use a hand?" I recognized the voice immediately, it belonged to that burly monster from the diner, and from the sounds of things, he had come to rescue us.

"It's fine. I have it under control," I muttered, turning my back on his help and poking around some more with my good finger.

"I wouldn't touch that, it usually gets pretty h-" his advice was cut off by the yelp of pain that escaped my lips when I burned yet another finger on one of the damn metal things.

"Just let him help us!" Rose hissed in my ear, careful to keep her voice low. She seemed to understand the way guys worked a little too well.

"Alright!" I called after him; he'd started to walk away. "Let's see what you can do." I gestured for him to join us under the hood, and he walked over slowly, a goofy smile on his lips. "I'm Edward, and this is Rosalie." He shook both our hands, and immediately went to work on the car without introducing himself. I was fine not knowing his name. In fact, I didn't want to know his name at all. Rose had other ideas.

"And you are?" She raised an eyebrow and glared in his direction. He laughed, and turned to face her, the goofy smile back on his face.

"Emmett. Emmett McCarty." He ducked back under the hood, and decided an overheated engine was the cause of our problems. He suggested replacing some sort of 'belt' and having a shop check over a few other things, just to be safe. I had no idea where to go or what to do, so I shoved my balls further into Rose's purse and did the only thing that came to mind.

"Do you think you could help us?" I asked, trying not to look as desperate as I was. I had no idea where we were or what to do, and I could only hope he would help us.

"Sure thing." He smiled politely, and motioned to a rusty old pickup on the other side of the lot. "That one's mine, I could give you a lift to the shop if you want."

"That would be great," Rose gushed, sticking her chest out a little further than was necessary. "Shotgun!"

I sighed. This would be a _long _day.


	4. The More, The Merrier

Disclaimer: Not my characters - Stephenie Meyer's characters.

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**Chapter 4: The More, The Merrier**

After Emmett's friends were done eating (we learned their names were Jasper, Angela, and Bella), we all piled in his pickup and headed to the nearest mechanic. The ride was awkward, to say the least. Jasper didn't seem pleased with the extra testosterone, and Rose seemed to make the girls uneasy. The girl with the glasses, Angela, kept shooting me curious glances, and I smiled politely whenever I caught her looking. The curvy one, Bella, who I had decided was actually pretty hot, ignored me completely. Emmett and Rose were chatting away in the front seat; it turned out they had a _lot_ in common. I could kiss that lay goodbye.

Once we got to the shop, Emmett insisted I come with him. He was looking for a mechanic named 'Bo.' The name conjured up images of gap-toothed smiles, crooked noses and greasy overalls. I wasn't disappointed; Bo definitely lived up to my expectations. He had time to pick the car up later in the afternoon, and said he'd be done with her early the next morning. I cringed at the thought of spending another second in this town, but grudgingly accepted it, and thanked him for his help.

When we got back to the car, everyone was facing each other, talking animatedly. It surprised me; Rosalie didn't usually warm up to people so fast, especially other girls. I tapped on her window, and she nearly jumped out of her seat. I bit back a laugh, and she took a second to glare at me before she rolled her window down.

"The car will be fixed tomorrow morning. I'll call and reserve another room for tonight, okay?" I raised my eyebrow, and waited for her response.

"No need. I've already taken care of it." She smiled at me and turned to squeeze Angela's hand affectionately. What the _hell_? "We can stay at Angela's place!"

"Uhh, Rose. Do you think we could talk for a minute?" _What the hell was she thinking?_

"Edward, I know what you're going to say. We don't know them very well, they don't know _us_ very well. We could be killers, _they_ could be killers. Blah, blah, _blah_." She laughed quietly for a minute, and turned to face the others in the back seat.

"Yeah, Edward. Do I really look like someone who's going to sneak up on you while you're sleeping, and kill you?" Angela gestured to herself, and everyone started cracking up. I was starting to feel like an idiot here.

"_Actually_, I didn't think it was right for two strangers to impose on you like that." Truthfully, I just wanted to go back to the hotel and fuck Rose senseless.

"Get over it, rich boy." This time it was Bella who spoke up, and her voice caught me off guard. "Kindness is rare in this world, you should take advantage of it when you can." She shot me a quick smile to let me know she was teasing, then dropped her eyes from my face and rejoined the conversation.

"I don't have much of a choice here, do I?" It was a rhetorical question, but everyone turned to shake their heads at me, and I groaned in defeat. "I can't believe I'm getting kidnapped by a bunch of girls," I grumbled to myself, and squished myself into the back seat with the others.

Angela's place was a fifteen minute drive from the shop; a bungalow with a well-kept garden out front. A rusty, red Honda Civic was parked in the driveway.

"Parents?" Rosalie asked.

"Boyfriend." Angela answered, smiling in spite of herself. "We bought this house a year ago."

"That's so cute!" Rosalie squealed, but I knew her well, and her excitement was fake. She was planning something, I should have known.

"Yeah, we moved out right after high school. We had a little help from my parents, but mostly we did it on our own. He's my soul mate." She really seemed to believe it.

"Gag me!" Jasper cried from beside her, and poked her in the ribs. Angela laughed and smacked him on the arm; they must be good friends. Bella laughed quietly, a high, musical sound. Emmett rolled his eyes; I caught it in the rear view mirror. Rosalie was silent. I could only guess at what she was thinking.

Angela lead us inside, and it was surprisingly neat. A little small for my taste, but well kept at least. There was a small kitchen to the left of the stairs, and the living room was straight ahead. They had a wide screen TV, and two big couches that looked comfortable enough. I sat down next to Rose, who looked slightly nervous, and everyone else joined us.

"So," Emmett started, eying us curiously. "What brings you guys here?"

"Our parents were just married," Rose answered honestly. "And we decided to take a little road trip while they were away on their honeymoon." That seemed to appease him, and he went back to staring at her with the same goofy grin as earlier.

"Where did you come from?" Jasper asked us.

"Seattle." I sighed, I hated being questioned.

"Wow. You've come a long way, then." He looked impressed. "Where you headed?"

"Wherever," I shrugged. "There's really no set destination."

"Sounds fun," Angela mused. She sounded jealous. I wondered if she'd ever seen the world outside this small town.

"Wait. You're Edward Cullen, aren't you?" The way Bella asked, she made it sound like an accusation. Rosalie stiffened in her seat, but it was so controlled I doubted anyone noticed.

"Yes, that's right. How did you know?" It was my turn to look curious as I turned to her, and waited for an answer.

"I'm from Forks, originally. I doubt you've heard of it, it's in Washington, too. Your father was always in the paper." She smiled, but looked a little intimidated. I guess millions of dollars did that to people.

"I know Forks." It came out as a whisper. "My mother was from Forks."


	5. Recognition

Disclaimer: As usual... the characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, not me!

* * *

**Chapter 5: Recognition**

**Bella's POV**

"I know Forks," he whispered, the pain evident in his eyes. "My mother was from Forks."

I _knew_ I recognized him. The bronze hair was the same. The deep green eyes were the same. He'd grown considerably since the last time I'd seen him, but other than that, he was the same. I'd wondered about it in the car, but I wasn't sure until now. It had been six years, but my memories of him were as clear as though they'd happened yesterday.

~Flashback~

"_What do you wanna do?" Jake asked me. He was sitting on the end of my bed; we were both bored. _

"_I dunno. We could go see if Mike and Tyler are at the park. Wanna do that?" He looked sour at the mention of Mike, but agreed to go. I knew Jake liked me, but we'd been friends for so long, I just didn't feel the same way. He knew I had a crush on Mike, and he hated my tendency to include him in all of our plans. _

"_We could stop by the store first, right?" He looked at me hopefully. _

"_Yeah, I guess. Let's go!" I jumped off the bed first, and grabbed my jacket from the hook on my door. He mumbled something I didn't catch, and we raced down the stairs like we always did. _

_The store wasn't far from my house. We ran most of the way, but decided walking was more safe when I tripped over my own feet and nearly face-planted into the sidewalk. When we rounded the corner to the main street, I noticed it was unusually crowded. Cars lined both sides of the road, and I could hear faint music coming from inside the Church. I smiled wistfully at the closed doors, dreaming of the day my father would walk me down the aisle at my own wedding. _

"_You coming, Bella?" Jake was waiting for me, his body half through the door. _

"_Yeah, be there in a sec." _

_I didn't know why, but something was drawing me to the church. I could feel Jake's eyes on my back as I crossed the street, but he didn't follow me. I climbed the flight of stairs and paused outside the doors, unsure if I should go inside or just wait there. Before I could decide, the door closest to me opened, and I barely missed getting knocked sideways. A boy with bright bronze hair flew past me; I don't think he even noticed I was standing there. He took the path leading to the side of the church, and I followed him timidly. When I peeked my head around the side of the building, he was sitting on a rotted bench, his head in his hands. He looked devastated, and there were tears running down his face. I yearned to comfort him, but something told me it wasn't the right time. _

_I could hear his muffled sobs as clearly as if I were beside him, and my own eyes watered in response. I'd never seen anyone this sad before, and, though I didn't know it at the time, my heart broke for him. I guess this wasn't the wedding I'd dreamt of; it was a funeral. I heard the door open again, and a male voice called out from behind me. _

"_Have you seen a boy come this way? He has reddish brown hair and green eyes. He's wearing a tuxedo. His name's Edward. Have you seen him?" The boy's head whipped around at the voice, and we locked eyes for a split second before I turned back to face the man who had called to me. _

"_He's over there." I whispered, and gestured for him to follow the path around the side of the building. "He looks really sad. Is he okay?" The man smiled down at me, but looked quite sad himself. _

"_I'm not sure, honey. We're all a little sad today. We lost someone we loved very much." I noticed his eyes water, and I felt guilty for asking. _

"_I'm sorry," I mumbled, not sure what else to say. I'd never been good at comforting others. In fact, showing much emotion at all was not a strong point. _

"_Thank you," he said, and reached over to place a hand on my shoulder. "I'm going to see if he's okay, thanks for your help."_

"_No problem." I watched as he walked past me, and around the building. I heard the distant sound of hushed voices, but didn't want to eavesdrop; it seemed too personal. I made my way back down the stairs, and went to find Jake inside the store. _

~End Flashback~

Every so often throughout the years, I'd found myself wondering how he was, wondering _who _he was. I'd thought of comforting things to say if we ever crossed paths again, but now, sitting in front of him after all this time, I couldn't come up with _one_.

Six years. Six years, and the pain still affected him like it had so long ago. I locked eyes with him once more, and tried to convey my sympathy without speaking. He stared right back at me, his face a carefully confused mask. While I doubted he recognized me after all this time, I had a feeling he knew _exactly_ what I was thinking.

"Whoa, did I miss the staring contest? Who's winning?" Emmett had turned his attention towards us, and Edward blanched slightly before he looked away. I glanced at Rosalie instinctively; she didn't look pleased. She made me uncomfortable from the second I saw her, and I wasn't sure why, but something told me not to trust her.

"Looks like I won," I shrugged. Edward laughed awkwardly, and Rosalie frowned in my direction. Everyone was silent for a few minutes; lost in their own thoughts, I guess. Thankfully, Ben chose that second to walk in the door, and after some hasty introductions, I excused myself to the safety of the washroom.

From behind the door, I could hear Rosalie repeat the story for Ben, and I noticed for the first time how convenient it sounded. I didn't doubt it was true, but if I really wanted to, I _could_ sneak into Angela's room to check the facts online. I considered it, but knew how it would look if I were caught so I tossed the idea from my mind. I'd just have to trust they were being honest, and be thankful they were out of our lives tomorrow morning. _What_ was Angela thinking?


	6. Read Between The Lines

Disclaimer: The characters belong to the wonderful Stephenie Meyer, not me! Yeesh!

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**Chapter 5: Read Between The Lines**

**Rosalie's POV**

Life for me has always been turbulent, at best. When my mom wasn't busy fucking her way to the top, we were roughing it in my grandma's trailer back in Ohio. We went from mansion to mansion, then back to the boonies when she got dumped. As I got older, she decided I was mature enough to pull my own weight. After all, if I thought I could reap the benefits of _her_ 'work' any longer, I was sadly mistaken.

When I was 14, she married a man named Laurent Thiebaud. Laurent was an affluent French businessman with a penchant for teenage girls. When my mom walked in on him in bed with her best friend's daughter, she didn't get mad. She made a plan to get even. Her plan? _Me_.

It started off innocently enough. She had me wear low-cut shirts to dinner, and bend over when she knew he was looking. She'd go out, and leave me to sunbathe topless by the pool when she knew he was home. And finally, when he could barely keep his hands off me, she had me offer him my virginity on a silver platter. I said no at first, I mean, make a man old enough to be my father, my first? Not exactly ideal, if you ask me. But when your mom threatens to kick your ass onto the street, without a dime to your name, you reconsider.

So, instead of a cake and presents, I got _laid _on my 15th birthday. It was awkward, painful, and I cried the whole time. That wasn't the worst part, though. My mom - who was _supposed_ to walk in on us - got drunk, passed out on the couch, and missed the whole thing. I had to sleep with that creep 17 more times, until she finally found us, in a compromising position in their bed on New Year's Eve.

My mom won the divorce settlement lottery, and I kissed what was left of my childhood, goodbye. I learned to use my body as a weapon; as a means to get whatever I wanted. I had blossomed from a well-meaning sweetheart, into a cold-hearted, manipulative bitch, practically overnight.

I was a sophomore in high school the first time a girl called me a slut. I'd slept with her boyfriend – a senior whose father owned a BMW dealership downtown – and milked him for all he was worth. I understood her anger, but I still kicked her ass. I took it a little too far, though, and her father wound up pressing charges while his precious baby girl recovered in the hospital. My mom had a choice: pay up, or send me to Juvi for a year.

Three months later, I met Edward. His father sent him to that hell hole after he was caught snorting K in class, and selling it in the parking lot after school. The first week he was there, he wouldn't talk to anyone. Girls were tripping over themselves just to get near him, but he didn't bat an eyelash in their direction. Of course, when I sat down beside him, he couldn't ignore _me_.

We became friends, but we were never close. We were attracted to each other, but danced around it instead of acting on our feelings. When my time was done, I was sad to leave him, but not enough to want to stay. He was let out a few months after I was, and we found each other again at a party my friend Tanya was hosting.

Tanya was the Queen B of Seattle long before I came into the picture. We met through mutual friends, and that was the beginning of the end. She was wild, uncontrollable, and her hunger for _more_ was insatiable. We both were tall, intimidating blondes, and figured separately – we were powerful. But together? We'd be _unstoppable_. Guys wanted us, girls _hated_ us, and the booze and drugs were always supplied for us.

Tanya's parties were incredible. You could only get in if you were 'somebody,' and even then, it wasn't a guarantee. Her family owned a huge cabin up in Tacoma, and she held most of them there. People would come from far and wide; her parties were downright _legendary_.

When Edward walked through the doors on that fateful weekend, we were already hammered. The room and the people in it swam around the edges of my vision, but when I looked up, there he was. Dishevelled and gorgeous, as always, with the familiar edge of loneliness that made him nearly irresistible.

We talked, laughed, and reminisced about our days 'behind bars.' Two drinks later, Tanya wandered over with a smile on her face, and a bag in her hand. We decided to take the party upstairs to her room. That's where the memory fades.

I woke up in the hospital the next morning, connected by tubes and needles to every machine in the room. Edward was in the bed beside me, deep purple bruises under each eye and deathly pale, but sleeping peacefully. I was terrified, and I couldn't remember anything from last night that would have landed us _here_.

Two hours later, I learned Tanya had died from an overdose, and Edward and I nearly followed. Someone at the party had called 9-1-1, but it was too late to help her. She was announced dead on the scene, while Edward and I barely made it to the hospital in time. Apparently she'd managed to talk us into doing some speedballs. When the shock of losing my best friend wore off, I was inconsolable. I refused to see my mother, and I never talked to Edward. It didn't seem fair that after everything I'd done, _she_ had to pay the price.

Eventually, we were released from the hospital and sent home. Edward and his father, Carlisle, came with us to Seattle, and we've been together ever since. My mother fell head over heels for him, and for once, I was happy for her. He was a nice man. He had a good head on his shoulders, and from what I could tell, didn't seem to harbor any fantasies of young girls. He treated my mom with the loyalty and respect she didn't deserve, and all too soon, they were engaged.

Edward and I never spoke of Tanya after we left the hospital, and throughout our recovery, we grew closer as friends. We still didn't confide much, but we came to rely on each other, and a layer of trust formed between us. We were two misfits; too screwed up to change, and too far gone to turn back now.

* * *

Edward and I answered questions all afternoon. Our four new 'friends' were pretty curious about us, and I tried to be as honest as I could. I was already starting to develop feelings for Emmett, which, for _me_, was pretty strange. I've been with tons of guys, but no one made me feel one tenth of what I was feeling for him. I had just started to feel comfortable with my realisation, when I noticed Edward off in his own world with a guest – Bella.

"Wait. You're Edward Cullen, aren't you?" Her tone suggested some sort of familiarity, like they'd met before. Edward froze, but answered honestly, and Bella mentioned a place called Forks. His eyes darkened a bit at her words, and a sudden urge to protect him overcame me.

"I know Forks. My mother's from Forks." He looked near tears at this point, and it was all I could do to not reach over and tear the bitch's eyes out of their sockets. Why was I reacting this way? I'd never really felt close to him before. Maybe it was the time we spent in Juvi getting to know each other. Maybe it was knowing firsthand how much it hurt him when anyone mentioned his mom.

"Woah, did I miss the staring contest? Who's winning?" Emmett's voice successfully interrupted my train of thought, and I threw him an annoyed glance before turning my attention back to them. Bella was looking at me curiously, and I gave her a dirty look. _Make what you want of that, bitch._ Edward was caught off guard by Emmett, and immediately dropped his eyes from her face. _Hmm... what was that?_ Bella mumbled some response and ran to the bathroom; I could hear the door lock behind her. _Weird._

Once she was gone, the atmosphere eased up a bit, and Angela's boyfriend chose that moment to walk through the door. Ben was nice enough, but he didn't seem too keen on having a couple of strangers crash at his place for the night. I couldn't blame him. He asked us the same questions the others had, and I patiently repeated my answers. Bella came back eventually, but neither her or Edward acknowledged each other again.

Dinner came and went – pizza from a place down the street – and Angela showed us to the spare bedroom downstairs when we were finished. She apologized for the single bed, and I nearly laughed in her face. _If only she knew..._

Edward placed our bags in the corner, and flopped onto the bed with an 'umph!' He looked happy enough, but I could tell his head was somewhere else. I didn't know what else to do, so I just stood in the doorway and watched him like an idiot.

"What are you doing?" He raised an eyebrow at me, and patted the bed beside him. I hesitated for a second before I joined him, nestling myself between his outstretched arm and his shoulder. He let his hand brush through my hair for a few minutes before he spoke again.

"This isn't like you, Rose." He smiled down at me, but his eyes were wary.

"I know." It was all I could say. I didn't understand this, either. It didn't feel _right_ to be in his arms, but it felt nice.

"I wasn't complaining," he said, and flashed a toothy grin down at me. "I just wasn't aware you had a cuddly side to you."

"What happened between you and Bella?" I asked after a few moments of silence. His hand froze in my hair, and his eyes avoided my face as he thought out his answer.

"Nothing. I guess she recognized me from somewhere." He shrugged, but his eyes continued to avoid my face. I felt his hand move through my hair again, but the pace was off. He was distracted.

I couldn't believe it. The fucker was lying to me!

Wait. Why do I care?

Do I have _feelings_ for Edward?

* * *

Hio! Sorry for the wait, I was away for Christmas. I hope you're all enjoying your holiday, I know I'm enjoying mine! It took me quite a while to write this chapter, but I like it. I definitely wanted to give Rosalie a chance to tell her story, and there it is. You might notice certain parts missing, but there's a reason behind it, I promise! I'm thinking I might bring Alice in soon, but I love her too much to have her entrance be anything _less_ than spectacular. Next chapter should be a good one =)

Review, and let me know what you think! xx


	7. Awake

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight OR the characters. Stephenie Meyer does. Don't hurt me!

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**Chapter 7: Awake**

**Edward's POV**

Once Rosalie was asleep, I slowly untangled our bodies, and left the room. She'd dozed off after asking me about the one thing I wished she wouldn't – Bella.

Angela's basement was small, but thankfully they thought to put a TV and a couch down here. I don't know how they'd react to having a stranger wander around their house in boredom, but it probably wouldn't be good. I stretched out on the couch, and settled on a rerun of _Friends _when it became obvious there'd be nothing better on at this time. I was just beginning to zone out when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I sat up quickly, and waited for whoever it was to come around the corner.

_Bella._

She looked uncomfortable as she peeked around the wall, but relaxed when she saw it was me. A strong sense of deja-vu came over me, but I shook it off. Whatever that was, it could wait 'til later.

"Hey," she whispered. "I heard the TV, and I was still up, anyway... Do you care if I hang out?"

"No, it's fine." I assured her. "_Friends _is on. Well, it's pretty much the _only_ thing that's on." She smiled, and sat down as far as she could from me. I guess she wasn't _that_ relaxed.

We watched in silence, and I heard her snort quietly at the funny parts. I tried not to, but I found it ridiculously cute. She fidgeted with her hands most of the time, and I caught her looking at me from the corner of her eye more than once. I guess that meant_ I_ was looking at her, too.

What was _wrong_ with me? There was an incredibly hot chick in the next room, ready and willing. Yet, here I was, undeniably entertained by the nervous girl next to me. Why did I feel anxious? Why did I wish she'd sit on my lap, not the other side of the couch? Why do I...

"Edward?" Her voice broke through my thoughts, and I controlled my surprise as best I could.

"What's up?"

"About earlier," she started. "I'm sorry if I said something I shouldn't have."

"You didn't," I insisted, shaking my head. "It just surprised me, that's all. The articles about my dad don't usually mention me, I'm surprised you were able to recognize me."

"Yeah..." She trailed off, and continued fidgeting. She bit her bottom lip and stared at the TV with a little _too_ much concentration. I studied her face for a moment; she was hiding something.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me." I kept my voice soothing, but she became more restless than ever.

"It's nothing, Edward. Seriously. I'm, uh, a little amazed I recognized you, myself." She was a _horrible_ liar. Horrible.

"Uh huh," I rolled my eyes at her, but let it go. If she wanted to tell me, she would.

I resumed my channel surfing when _Friends_ ended, but before I could get very far, she slid over to me and stole the remote right out of my hands.

"Don't you know what's on, right now?" She went up a few channels, and settled back into the couch with a content sigh. I groaned.

"_South Park_? Really?" I hated _South Park_. With a passion. My friends back home seemed to think it was hilarious, but I found it more annoying than anything.

"What? You don't like it?" She pouted at me, but made a show of keeping the remote as far away from me as possible.

"How could anyone like this show?" I asked her incredulously. "It's horrible."

"Well," she started, taunting me with the remote in her far hand. "You better learn to love it. We have a whole hour of _South Park_ to enjoy!"

"An _hour_?! I don't _think_ so!"

I launched myself over her body, with my outstretched arms aimed at the remote. She shrieked, and rolled into a tight ball around the device. I debated my options for a moment while she giggled underneath me, and settled on the most viable one. I would have to _tickle_ it away from her. I started with her feet, but she didn't so much as budge.

"My feet aren't ticklish," she laughed. "But nice try!"

"Oh, I'm not done _yet_." I had more success with her stomach, which she hadn't thought to cover up. She flipped underneath me, and tried to fend off my attack with her free hand.

"Stop!" she cried, a little breathless from laughing. "I'll give it to you, I promise!" Her cheeks were flushed, and our faces were inches apart.

"Promise?" I arched my eyebrow, and my fingers trailed lightly over her exposed stomach. She squirmed below me, but the look in her eyes was different from before.

"What if I don't?" she breathed. A grin spread across her face but she didn't try to move, and when my fingers brushed her stomach again, she bit her bottom lip nervously.

"Hmm." I cocked my head, and pretended to think about it. "Are you sure you want to take that chance?" I tickled her again, and she arched her back against my touch. Her head fell back against the cushion and her hands wrapped around my wrists in a feeble attempt to throw me off.

"Okay, okay! I declare you master of the remote!" Her back was still arched, and she blushed when she noticed our position.

"Master? I like the sound of _that_." A million thoughts were running through my head, but one stood out the most – I _liked_ this. It felt comfortable, and it felt right. I knew I was shamelessly flirting, and I didn't care.

"You _would_ like that," she huffed. She started squirming again, and when she realized I wouldn't move, she took matters into her own hands. She started tickling my neck – my most ticklish spot – and I fell backwards off the couch. She came tumbling after me, and moved her attention to my stomach. We rolled around for a while, making way too much noise, and collapsed beside each other when we were out of breath.

"You're evil," I smirked, and shoved her gently. "But you look good doing it."

She blushed, her cheeks turning a deep crimson color. "Yeah, _okay_..." She shoved me back, but it was a lot harder than mine, and I winced involuntarily.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" She looked so upset, I just _had_ to play it up a bit.

"That really hurt, Bella. I thought we were having fun." I gave her a dirty look and she cringed, but was instantly apologetic.

"We were! I didn't mean to hurt you, really. I'm so sorry, Edward!" She frowned at me, and her eyes started to water. _Oh crap_.

"Got you!" I burst out laughing, and I heard her gasp.

"I _can't_ believe you! I felt so bad about pushing you, and you were just fucking around! Ugh!" She moved to get up, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the ground.

"Don't leave..." I really didn't want her to leave. This was the most fun I'd had in a _long_ time.

Our eyes met, and neither of us could look away. I never noticed how deep her brown eyes were before, but I lost myself in them as our heads slowly inclined towards each other, inch by inch. I could feel her breath on my face, and her eyes closed when our lips finally met.

"_What the fuck is going on here_?" My eyes flew open, and I whipped around to face Rosalie – with her arms crossed – in the doorway to our room.

"Rose, what are you doing awake?" I reluctantly pulled away from Bella, and got to my feet.

"What am _I_ doing awake? I bet the whole damn house is awake right now, Edward." She shot Bella a dirty look, and rolled her eyes.

"I'm s-sorry," Bella stuttered, and began playing with her hands again. "I guess we _were_ pretty loud."

"That's an understatement," Rosalie hissed under her breath. Bella was looking more uncomfortable by the second, and I felt horrible for her. Rose usually had this effect on people.

"Rose, go back to bed, okay? I'll be there in a minute." She made a face, but walked back into the room, slamming the door on her way. I turned around to face Bella, but she was already walking up the stairs.

"Bella?" I called after her, but she barely paused to answer me.

"Forget it," she mumbled. "I shouldn't have come down in the first place." And with that, she was gone.

**...**

So here I was, standing in the middle of Angela's basement feeling like an idiot. The last thing I wanted was for Bella to find out what Rose and I had going on between us, but now, how could she _not _figure it out? I was too caught up in my own thoughts to worry about dealing with Rose right now, but – _lucky me _– I'd have to deal with her all day, tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that...

The worst part of all? I'm leaving tomorrow, and I have no idea when or _if_ I'll ever see Bella again. Tonight was the first time I'd felt free, felt _alive_, in a really long time. Who knows if I'll ever feel that way again?

Great. Just fucking _great_.

* * *

Helloooo... Yes, they finally kissed... but barely! Stupid Rosalie interrupting *grumbles*

Review, review, review! They make me smile, you guys are way too nice! I'll be busy the next couple of days, but I'm going to try and get the next couple of chapters done so I can post them together. I know they're pretty short, I should probably work on that, huh? :P


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